


Left Behind

by SapphicMetatron



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempted Suicide, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26049034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicMetatron/pseuds/SapphicMetatron
Summary: Hordak had fallen so far down that he was getting a pep talk from none other than Catra.And for that, Catra was truly, undeniably good.
Relationships: Catra & Entrapta (She-Ra), Catra & Hordak (She-Ra), Entrapta & Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Attempted suicide.
> 
> Reading the previous parts is important to understand this one.
> 
> Thanks to my bff for beta reading and being awesome.

Things could have been so much worse. This, Catra realized as she walked through the Whispering Woods. The area had once been twisted and gnarly, the protagonist of countless creepy stories. Now, though? Sparkling sunrays filtered in through the canopy, birds chirped, flowers blossomed. It was almost disgusting.

Even more disgusting was how she was carrying a cutesy little basket, checker-pattern blanket peeking out and all, like Little Red Riding Hood to visit a…friend?

Was Entrapta a friend? After all of this?

She supposed the definition fit. Between frequent visits to check up on her, free meals courtesy of the cook back in camp and pointless chatting before leaving, it was a hell of a lot more friend-like than what those princesses pulled off.

Seriously, anyone could smile at those sparkly assholes and they were automatically _friends._ Could anything be more pathetic-

_Stop._

Catra halted in her tracks.

_Breathe._

She closed her eyes, her chest swelled. The winds rustled the branches.

_Let go._

Deep exhale. Then, she resumed her walk.

She reached Entrapta’s lab not long after. It was covered in moss and vines and dirt, but the distinctive flash of the metal was easy to distinguish from a distance. One would only realize this was a lab once one knew what to look for.

Arriving at the front door, she slammed the side of her fist into the metal. And waited.

Her eyes found the robotic spider that crawled out of a crevice before it found her. It hung above her head as it inspected her.

Catra’s pupils contracted into slits. Her ears fixed on it like satellite dishes. Her tail flickered. _Prey._

Except not. She already tried to eat this before. It was awful.

The door hissed and slid open before her instincts took over and made her look like a dumbass again. Her eyes relaxed as she peered into the dimly lit hallway that led into the lab and she stepped in.

The floor was cold. Thousands of little sets of legs crawled all around, and her sensitive hearing picked up each and every sound. Catra honestly hated it here, but Entrapta refused to set a single toe outside. Friendship sucked.

And there sat the woman herself. Entrapta the genius, in her big cozy chair, doing the same thing she always did for hours on end non-stop: stare at her huge wall of monitors glowing painfully in the dark. Catra shielded her eyes, but before she could speak, Entrapta’s chair turned to face her with a squeak.

“Catra! Hi!”

“Hey, uh.” It had been a few months of doing this, and it was never any less awkward. Especially when Entrapta forgot to flip up her welding mask. “I brought you something.”

“Ooh! Bring it over! I wanna see!” She ejected out of her seat with her hair appendages and loomed over Catra as she set the basket down.

Opening it and pulling back the blanket revealed an assortment of food that made Entrapta’s eyes sparkle and Catra’s mouth water.

_These are for Entrapta. Control yourself._

_Friendship sucks._

“It’s _tiny sushi!”_ Entrapta gasped as she picked up a sushi piece in her index and thumb. The thing was absurdly adorable, a small piece of fresh salmon sleeping on a bed of rice, wrapped in seaweed. “It’s _so_ cute!” It went straight into her mouth to face its ultimate demise in her digestive system.

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome, or whatever.”

“You got any soy sauce in here?”

“Ew, no.” Why make something salty even saltier?

“That’s fine!”

Catra ran her claws up and down the fur of her arm, then asked in a tiny voice, “can I-can I have some?”

Entrapta paused before plopping a tuna piece right into her mouth, then grinned at her from ear to ear. “Of course!”

Catra should be sick of seafood, but _damn_ was fish good.

They went back and forth about this and that. Sometimes Entrapta was completely distracted by something on her monitors, but at this point Catra was so used to it that she was only a tiny bit annoyed. Pulling her back into the conversation was easy. The fact that Entrapta even bothered to talk was…well, Catra learned to appreciate it was kind of a big deal.

She liked talking to Entrapta. She just didn’t give a damn. Most in Etheria regarded Catra with disgust, some with stiff recognition. Her carpenters at her coast-side town looked up to her. Even her interactions with Scorpia were strange. Friendly? Yes. Trusting? As much as Catra could manage. But _something_ was damaged beyond repair two years ago.

Entrapta, though, Entrapta didn’t…quite _see_ her when they spoke. Catra was a person who talked to her, a person who no longer posed a threat, and that was enough.

“Did you get the TV yet?” Asked Entrapta, taking the second to last piece of sushi from the basket.

Catra groaned. “No. Some asshole dropped the box during mailing and the screen broke so Scorpia has to get them to restart the shipping process all the way from Brightmoon. Are you sure you can’t just make me one? Lend me one of your fancy monitors, maybe? You have plenty of them.”

Entrapta pouted at her sullenly. “I use all my monitors! They’re all connected to camera feeds from my friends.” She clicked this button and that. “See?”

Catra stabbed the last sushi roll with a claw slightly too forcefully. At least a dozen monitors, stacked one on top of the other so they scraped the ceiling, all displaying _Catra._ From above, from the side, from _below._ Catra shrieked and jumped; her eyes darted all around her, searching for the creepy little bugs. “Turn it off! Turn it off!”

“You don’t think it’s _awesome?”_ At least Entrapta listened and dismissed the feeds.

“Fucking creepy is what it is.” Catra sighed, popped the roll into her mouth, then brushed down her spiked fur. “Speaking of which, you’re not at least a tiny bit mad that your chefs are raking in money from that show they’re doing in your mansion?”

“Nope!”

That answer was predictably boring. Catra leaned on Entrapta’s desk, trying to meet her eyes. “Really? Cause I think you’d do a way better job. I mean…” Mismatched eyes scanned the place. “You already have in here. Unintentionally.”

“Nope! Not interested! Making my friends into little builders to help you out with your town is way more fun!”

Of course she had to go ahead and make that sweet. Catra hid her embarrassment behind a faux coughing fit and straightened up.

She searched the darkness past the monitors, glanced into a second hallway not far off. There was another reason she dreaded coming here. “So…where’s…where’s Hordak?” He would be the type to avoid her rather than greet her, but in previous times he’d shown his despicable face before quickly retreating.

“Oh, he was out in the back, doing some…things with plants. Or something.”

Catra burst into cackling laughter, wiping a tear and all. “Did he get into _gardening?_ I gotta see this. Be right back.”

“’Kay!”

The warm tickles of the sun and the distant chirping of birds were a welcome reprieve from the cold, machine-filled lab. Catra circled the metal box, looking for any sign of a garden. A fence, tilled soil, stakes or trellises- _anything._ The only clue she found of any activity came in the form of a dirt path, carved in by boots beating down on plants and leaves day by day. With her own bare feet, she followed.

Then she started noticing signs. Sticks planted in the ground, joined by string to draw polygons around an area, plants cut at the stem with care. Hordak maybe wasn’t gardening, but… _studying_ the plants?

Somehow that was even worse, so boring and pointless. This forest was old as shit. At least gardening could yield some food. Catra might’ve purchased some home-grown tomatoes from him, provided he priced them better than Kankra’s exports. It wouldn’t be hard. Shipping was a bitch.

But…whatever, she supposed. If it kept him from restarting another army for conquest…

Her ear twitched. Rustling, coming from the right, a pattern far too firm and distinctive for it to be the wind. Then…choking? Gasping for air? She followed the noises, not quite sure what caused her to care. Curiosity?

Hordak. Several feet off the ground. It shouldn’t have taken this long to figure out he had hung himself, but his survival instincts were still struggling against the force pushing into his neck.

Catra leapt with a cry and slashed at the rope with her claws, then landed cleanly on her feet. Hordak was still alive, writhing on the forest floor, clutching at his own throat as he gasped for air.

Did that…really just happen?

Did Catra _save_ Hordak? The one and only catalyst for everything bad that’s ever happened to her?

Hordak…tried to kill himself.

He tried to take the easy way out while Catra busted her ass rebuilding a town for atonement.

And she _fucking saved him._

So if Catra kicked him to lie on his back, grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and punched him right across his stupid alien face, it was all totally his fault. And, of course, with the boiling anger that burst within her chest, this was exactly what she did.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?!”

He grunted in pain, still swallowing lungfuls of air. “You…you don’t understand.”

That deserved a second punch. “I don’t _have_ to understand! You were going to just off yourself? Just like that?!”

“Let…me…go-“

“No! You were going to leave Entrapta all alone to deal with your mistakes, _again!_ Do you _actually_ give a fuck about her? Do you give a fuck about _anyone_ but yourself?!”

It should’ve been satisfying. He was completely speechless, eyes glazed over from the extended lack of oxygen.

It was anything _but_ satisfying. He was far too pathetic at this point, way too low down for it to be anywhere near pleasurable to inflict pain upon him. Catra almost felt _sorry_ for Hordak, _almost._

So she let him go. His head hit the ground and lolled back and forth almost lifelessly.

“Get up.”

Hordak’s only response was a grunt.

“Get. Up. I’m taking you to town with me.”

“Town…?”

She growled, impatient and frustrated. “Yes, town!”

Hordak was slow as he twisted to prop himself up. “That…entire kingdom. _Kankra.”_ He tried the name, spitting it out mockingly as though it were a fantasy. Non-existent. “It’s…a group of fools…who think they can…settle on broken land.” His eyes landed on Catra. Their glow had never been more hollow. “And you’ve joined them.” His fangs bared in a crooked smile. “You’ve always been a fool, kitty cat, aiming higher than you could ever, ever, jump…and now we’re here.”

Catra had listened to his entire spiel, focused on the void between the cracks on his face, forgetting he had the low ground.

Hordak was ruined. He had no power over her anymore.

So she kicked him swiftly in the nutsack. If his weird alien clone biology even had one, he reacted as if he did, screaming and wriggling like a worm.

Catra crossed her arms and, somehow, kept her voice level. “You’re _so_ pathetic right now, I can’t even be mad at you anymore.” She scoffed. “Was all that you trying to _insult me?_ ‘Cause it only made me feel sorry for you.”

Then, a voice, ringing from a distance and cutting through their hostility. _“Hordak!”_ It was unmistakably Entrapta, calling for her friend in a singsong voice.

A switch flipped. Hordak was on his feet in a matter of seconds, keeping his posture straight and tall. Just in time for Entrapta to reach them. Surprisingly enough, she was walking with her actual legs rather than her hair. Perhaps she had learned a lesson from getting leaves and twigs stuck in her strands.

“Entrapta…is everything alright?” He asked, a tiny smile in his tone. Catra wanted to hurl.

“Yeah! I was just wondering where you were since it’s eleven thirty-two and you’re usually at the door by that hour and-Catra! I forgot you were here!”

Catra shrunk, her eye twitching.

“She keeps me on a tight schedule.” Hordak _joked_ to Catra, as though they’d been buddies all along. Then, he turned to Entrapta. “I was just about to walk home. Why don’t you go on ahead, partner?”

“Okay!” She left from whence she came.

“You disgust me,” hissed Catra, as soon as they were alone. Her pupils were sharp slits that glared like daggers. Had she not intervened, Entrapta would’ve left her lab to find…

Hordak didn’t even have the guts to look at her. “Can I _help_ you?” He asked with venom in his voice.

“You are coming to town with me. I’m not giving up on this. Go get ready, I’ll be waiting.”

Catra waited for him inside the lab just to make it known that no, she wasn’t going to go away if Hordak waited long enough. Maybe. Entrapta’s typing, while entrancing to watch, was grating to her sensitive hearing. Her ears twitched madly, as though trying to escape the sound.

He finally stepped out, shrouded in a cloak. Catra was not prepared for what the light of the wall of screens revealed under his hood, though.

A mask obscured his unique features. The mask of a girl, big blue eyes and large lips with a slit in the middle.

She laughed and laughed in his face like she never had before. Not a bluffing, intimidating kind of cackle. It was a true, belly shaking laugh, because she couldn’t believe how utterly ridiculous their circumstances were. How far Hordak had fallen.

And he simply stood there, taking it all, because with Entrapta there and his peaceful existence on the line, there was not much else he could do. Not anymore.

“You. Are a _disgrace.”_ She took great pleasure in saying this, savoring each syllable with confidence. He could not hurt her anymore, no matter what she dared utter.

“I truly don’t know what you want to accomplish, _Catra.”_ He spat her name as though it greatly pained him to address her with a modicum of respect. “But you better make it quick.”

Catra turned around to leave the room. “Sure, it’ll only be a few hours. Go tell your girlfriend not to miss you.”

It took him a second to process the jab. “My g- Entrapta is _not_ my-“ He tried to reach for her neck, but turned to stone when said woman spoke.

“You look so cute, partner!”

Catra watched him speak to Entrapta softly about the short trip he would be having, then begrudgingly follow her out of the lab.

The walk through the woods was silent, for the most part. She let Hordak walk ahead. He knew the way, he had been to Catra’s town once or twice before to buy from the tiny barebones market there. And there was no way in hell she would let him out of her sights.

But Catra couldn’t help herself, she _had_ to know more about the stupid mask he was wearing. “Where did you get that thing on your face?”

He grumbled something incoherent.

“Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

“Entrapta gave it to me a month ago.” A sigh. “I came back home from trying to purchase goods at a village in the Whispering Woods with an arrow in my side.”

“They recognized you.”

“Indeed.”

“And I guess Entrapta was considerate.” Even if the mask’s appearance bordered on…questionable.

“I am not beyond extending her my thanks.”

“Good.”

As they entered town, Catra’s ear picked up a distant sound. A note holding for long moments before stopping abruptly.

She chose to ignore it when it didn’t sound again.

Looks were expected, anticipated even, for a hooded figure marching into town as Catra’s escort. Scorpion people were large, both men and women, and they made up most of Catra’s building team. She trusted their eyes and their strength after all these months, so she walked ahead of Hordak to impose her presence. If he dared try anything behind her back, her crew would be on top of him in seconds.

Some of her crew stopped in their tracks to watch the pair go by curiously. They held wooden planks, beams, tools. A human girl with twin braids carried a tray with ice cold water and lemonade. Catra beckoned her closer.

“Bring a few cold ones to the thinking rock.” She gave her instruction to the girl, who nodded firmly before scurrying away.

The thinking rock was a boulder near the beach, which viewed from a certain angle resembled some guy leaning over in thought or whatever. Catra never saw the shape, but all the others swore it looked _just_ like a man and insisted on calling it that.

Regardless, it had a clear view from town, so if she needed anything, it would be a call away. It was also a perfect place to watch the waves.

“Sit.” She commanded sternly and watched Hordak obey with slit pupils. He now had the low ground, as Catra chose to remain standing.

Not long after, the girl came over with the requested beer cans, still shedding melting bits of frost from the freezer, then scuttled away from the poisonous atmosphere that formed between the former lord and the former subordinate.

Catra held out a can. “Here, drink.”

“No, _thank you.”_ Hordak spoke sharply, doing nothing to accept what was offered.

“Goddammit, _drink.”_

“I said _no.”_

“Fine, then no one drinks.” She dropped both cans into the sand.

“What do you want from me? Haven’t you humiliated me _enough?”_

Catra bit back a chuckle. His growling voice coupled with the dumb mask were prime entertainment. “Take off that thing. Can’t even take you seriously.”

The latex mask was promptly tucked away. He might’ve discarded it if it hadn’t been a gift. The smile wiped off her face, however, at the sight of his true features. Sharp, menacing, yet miserable.

“I want you to promise me you won’t try anything like that again.”

Hordak hunched over like a sulking kid. “You are the last person who should care about whatever I choose to do with my life.”

“Wrong.” She stepped closer to him. “I only trust you to be around Entrapta because she _somehow_ likes you, and you _somehow_ care about her enough to take an arrow for her sake.”

The waves roared, the foam popped and sparkled, the gulls squawked and the wind shaped the mountains. Hordak made no sound.

Catra’s scowl deepened. “By doing what you were about to do, you were going to hurt her.”

“I am aware.”

“Then how the fuck-“

“ _I_ …am hurting.” His glowing eyes gazed into his clawed palms. “Fallen from glory, spited by all, my kind are dead, the one purpose I have ever held onto, gone.” He lifted his head, meeting Catra’s gaze. “You cannot tell me what to do with my pain.” A wicked grin bared his fangs. “After all…your dear _Adora_ has vouched for _you_ -“

Catra sprang forward, fast as lightning, pulling Hordak by his hood and unsheathing her claws. “Don’t you dare say-“

That sound from earlier cut through the moment, loud enough to be identified as…an instrument. A sound fat, large and heavy. A strong chest blowing into a horn flaring wide. Catra’s ears swiveled like satellites.

“You heard that.” Her eyes never left Hordak, and she noticed him aghast.

“So did you.”

They remained still as statues, as though turning to rock along with the thinking man. As the minutes ticked, Catra’s anger returned drop by drop.

Hordak beat her to the next words, “I believed that without me around, Entrapta would have a better chance to…be forgiven, as well.”

“What are you talking about? She _was_ forgiven.”

“Then why is she in the middle of the woods, in a metal box, forgotten?”

Catra could have argued that no, she wasn’t forgotten. Scorpia was busy in the capital of Kankra pulling a reborn kingdom together, but she requested frequent updates on Entrapta’s condition through Catra herself. Between the two, they kept a pretty good eye on the laser-focused genius.

But the other princesses, the so-called new queen of Brightmoon, Adora herself, who hadn’t shown her face anywhere in a while…hell, even her former cooks, all seemed to move on, forget, _thrive_ without Entrapta.

Catra swallowed thickly, her stance faltering. “Sh-she seems…she seems fine to be left alone coming up with whatever crazy invention she wants.”

Hordak’s features softened to something pleading. “She hears more than you think, _understands_.”

“Are you…saying she’s unhappy?”

“I am saying she deserves better…and that she might have better with _me_ gone.”

 _Sh…shit._ Catra felt her lungs expand with every breath, her tail flickering with tension. The hold she kept on his cloak loosened and the claws retracted. “I don’t…I don’t think so.” She snickered humorlessly. “You probably don’t give a shit about what I think. Whatever. But Entrapta cares about you.”

No response. Without Catra grasping at his clothes, he was limp over his lap, a puppet without a puppeteer.

Until the trumpet blared again. Both turned towards the source, two pairs of eyes lost in the stretching coast crashing into rocky cliffs. In silent agreement, Hordak and Catra began their pursuit.

The sand turned damp quickly as they pushed their path further into the beach. Catra hissed at the waves encroaching upon the fur of her ankles. Hordak was unfazed by this, sprinting forward with uncanny focus.

Again sounded the instrument, now close and crisp. Catra could imagine the vibrations of the bronze as the strong breaths rumbled through its frame.

“Four, _Horde,_ that’s four.” Hordak’s voice trembled fearfully in his breathlessness.

 _“What’s_ four?! Hordak?!”

He suddenly halted, his boots digging into wet sand. “They’re here.”

Once she followed his gaze, the figure was hard to miss.

They were…vaguely familiar, and perched upon a rock peeking above the water further in. Water splashed violently against it, spraying foam and mist, but they sat there unbothered.

It was the wings that made Catra squint. They were large as they sprouted from their back, glowing with magic. Didn’t the former queen have wings like those? What was even her name?

And wasn’t she…dead or something?

A bronze horn, simple in design, sat in their lap. Their head, though initially turned away, slowly rotated to spot the two watchers at the shore.

This couldn’t be that queen, could it? This one’s skin was a soft red, their hair short and alabaster, their eyes a piercing amber that burned through Catra’s eyes from far away.

They were angry. Not quite boiling with rage. The imprint of their anger scorched Catra’s heart.

“I knew we’d meet again.” Hordak’s tone was that soft, pitiful whine he only used to address Horde Prime.

It sickened Catra. “Who is this-“

A strong gust of wind knocked them both to the ground. The angelic being stood above them. Every inch of their broad, chiseled body was tense, though cracking like a dam with stored destruction. White robes hugged their frame. Their wings eclipsed the afternoon sun.

They spoke three simple words through gritted teeth, a foreign lilt shaping them. “Where…is Angella?”

Catra managed to stand on all fours, muscles tight as a bow ready to pounce. “You a friend of hers?”

Her flippant tone was meant to tick them off, but not to the extent that they turned at the offense and reached for her. Faster than she could think to dodge, their large hand was around her neck and she was lifted high in the air.

“Where the _fuck_ is she?!”

Catra struggled against their grip, trying to pry the fingers off her flesh to no avail. Any swipes at their arms turned into luminous, glowing wounds. There was no blood, nothing more than a wince of annoyance.

“Your friend is gone.” Hordak answered, now on his feet, though infuriatingly calm. He made no attempt to free her from the barbaric angel’s grasp.

“…Gone?”

“Gone, but not dead. Caught between dimensions. If you hurry, there may be hope for her.”

The angelic being’s interest shifted, and Catra was let go to flop on the sand. She coughed and wheezed, but tried to listen in.

They had grown restless, jittering with energy. “What did you do to her?!”

“It is my understanding that whatever happened was her own choice.” His impassive stare showed a hint of anger. “So leave this planet alone.”

They scoffed, though their voice bubbled with sobs. “All of you mortals say the _same thing.”_ Their gaze shifted from Hordak, to Catra struggling on the sand, then back to Hordak. “You had better hope, for your own good, that she shows up, because I can do _so_ much more than this dirtball of a planet.” They held their hands towards the sky. “Aim for the stars.”

With that, they flew away.

Hordak watched the heavens uselessly as Catra stumbled to her feet. His dumbfounded expression was all the more enraging. “You got any explanations?!”

He flinched at her tone, and he settled into his disinterested, hostile self. “Angelic beings are unpredictable. But… _this one_ knows no mercy.” He approached her, leaning into her space and glaring into her eyes. “Our end is near. If you value your existence, pray that the old queen reappears. But I am ready.”

His prophecy chilled her to the core. All she could do was stare at the grains of sand being swallowed by the ocean, as Hordak’s footsteps thudded away.

The encounter plagued Catra’s mind for the following weeks.

She reached out to the princesses, cursed that they took so damn long to reply. Not even Sparkles knew much. The former queen didn’t speak of her past, and never gave any hints on those of her own kind.

Glimmer even consulted her dad on the matter. He recognized the description of the _friend_ Catra encountered and sent a letter with all the information he possessed.

In the buzzing yellow light of a lamp, cicadas singing through the night outside her tent, Catra read on a tablet what Glimmer forwarded.

_From: HM Glimmer of Brightmoon_

_To: Capt. Catra of Kankra_

_Subject: FWD on Angelic Beings._

_From: Prof. Micah of Mystacor_

_To: HM Glimmer of Brightmoon_

_Subject: on Angelic Beings._

_Dearest Glimmer,_

_I noticed from the beginning that any matters pertaining to her past brought her pain and distress, so I was reluctant to inquire. That being said, some things of note occurred while your mother carried you._

_A ‘friend’ visited her. I only knew of this encounter the following morning. It’s one of my clearest memories because of how pale she looked when she returned home. Whatever they talked about wasn’t pleasant. Mere months later, Angella fell into a deep depression. She mentioned her home and her people and said they had abandoned her. She wasn’t the same from that day on, but she resolved to be strong so you would be born healthy and happy._

_She wasn’t always reluctant, you see. I knew Angella as one of the most courageous, driven people I had ever met. But I loved her all the same, before or after this odd incident. She always had my admiration and my support. I miss her so much, Glimmer._

_Setting my feelings aside, though, I do have certain theories:_

_Angelic beings are native to a dimension separate from our own._

_They are secretive about their own kind, perhaps to protect us or themselves._

_They also have a special kind of magic of their own. I don’t know the nature of this power very well, but I witnessed Angella using it in the past. She was reluctant to perform in front of others, and never used it after the incident I described earlier._

_This power may be linked to their home or their people. However they managed to ‘abandon’ Angella, she was cut off from it._

_There is more your mother confided in me, but out of respect to her memory I’ve omitted from this correspondence. I would love to tell these stories to you in person, whenever you’re ready._

_This ‘friend’ that is looking for her cannot be good news. I hope that they never return and stay in their homeworld. Be alert. Please update me on any new happenings._

_Your loving father, Micah._

_PS:_ _Dinner this Saturday?_

_-_

_This is ‘Sparkles.’_

_No, I’m not telling you the other stories. Also, don’t tease me about how my dad writes, and don’t spam his email._

_And I hope I don’t need to remind you that this is CONFIDENTIAL._

_Please report any other anomalies regarding this angelic being friend. I’ve sent a formal request to Princess Scorpia to be on guard._

_Cheers._

Who the fuck signs off with ‘cheers’?

This Micah guy’s information gave much to think about, but not much to plan with. More intel on the nature of this power could potentially aid in developing a mechanism to exploit a weakness.

Further digging didn’t reveal much else. There had been other angelic beings that ruled Etheria in the distant past. Those had left no morsel of information behind either. The bastards.

As all leads placed Catra and Glimmer on countless dead-ends, the matter was eventually forgotten.

Catra found herself dropping by Entrapta’s lab on a daily basis, at whatever time she could afford from her schedule. Hordak seemed to be doing fine.

Until she let her guard down.

He left a note behind. Something about not wanting to suffer at the hands of the _angel of death._

In the end, even he might have underestimated how much Entrapta understood. She wept for weeks to come, but found solace in typing away at her projects.

Then…Adora happened. Whatever that had been. Something about She-Ra and that former queen and the dimensions- what the hell did everyone want with that woman anyway? She was _gone._ And so was Adora now, as well.

It was Catra’s turn to grieve. Her turn to fight with the burning in her chest and the pounding thoughts of _Adora_ in her head, just to get up each morning. Just to _function._ A week after that incident, and there was no end in sight.

Her lab destroyed, Entrapta was taken to Brightmoon to live in one of their fancy rooms with cloud-like mattresses. At least one less heartbeat depended on Catra.

The town progressed around her, looking more and more like an actual livable place rather than a skeleton of steel and wood. Her crew could manage itself, for now. But someday, Catra had to rise and lead.

That day could not be today, Catra knew, as she struggled to lift an arm off her bed. _Adora was gone._

And then the trumpet sounded.

Catra sat in a flash, ears twitching and searching. Both pointed towards the coast, that same coast from all those months ago…

She was running out of her tent as it sounded again, a steady note floating above the town, carrying into the woods. The birds flapped from the trees. Tiny winged shapes filled the heavens as they fled. Her crew halted their activities to turn towards the coast in unison.

Catra’s panicked sprint carried her from the buildings and towards the beach. Running, running and running, she found that same rock again, lonely in the landscape of the sea.

And there was the angel, bringing the large horn to their lips one last time.

Their wings flared. The vibrations of the powerful sound angered the waves. A poison of burning rage that dripped from their heart through the grim music.

But Catra was ready. Perhaps Hordak prepared her all along.

The angel rose into the clouds, then landed before Catra. One last swoop of their wings blew a gust that she resisted by digging her feet into the sand.

Up close, it was clear: the angelic being was weeping.

“She’s gone.” They choked.

Catra sucked in a breath. “She is.”

The glistening tears only made the amber of their irises burn all the brighter.

But Catra stood poised, face set in stone. Her fur prickled in alarm.

“Did you even know her?” They asked.

After a pause, she replied, “she was my enemy.”

The waves howled, closing down on the two figures at the shore. Even drenched in saltwater, Catra did not flinch.

“I see.”

They raised a hand, fingers glowing pure white with a magic that distorted the air into waves.

One last tear trailed down the angel’s reddish face. Their jaw tightened. “Then I’ll give you a chance to face me.”

They directed their spell to the side, where a tree-like rune shot towards a nearby cliff. Before Catra’s eyes, the tall wall of rock was engulfed in a light before dissipating into particles. Stars floating away to join the rest high above.

It was almost beautiful.

Catra’s heart pounded in her chest, but she was ready. Not to die, but to _face death._

Baring her claws, she released a cry and lunged towards the angelic being.

She would fight, perhaps not for Etheria, not even for the universe.

She would fight so Adora would be remembered, instead of the sun that consumed her.

**Author's Note:**

> I consider this part 2.5, a transition.
> 
> Part 3 is coming sometime in September. Maybe. (Send help.)
> 
> UPDATE: stuff has been delayed


End file.
